A Promise to Keep
by haleigh91
Summary: From the prompt "remember when we were kids and we swore that if we were still single at 30 we'd marry each other, well hey guess whose birthday it is". Captain Swan AU.
1. A Promise to Keep

She honestly should have seen it coming.

The stupidly childish promise they had made to one another at the tender age of eight had been in the back of her mind for weeks (and if she were being completely honest with herself, months even).

They had been playing in the sandbox together, building their own castle with tiny shovels and buckets, and Emma had broken into tears when Neal, the bratty boy from the grade above her, had called off their "relationship" (obviously he was too old to be seen with babies that still played in the sandbox).

But Killian had been there for her in an instant, wrapping his small arms around her crying form, making threats towards the other boy all the while. His tiny fists clenched in anger, desperately trying to calm his best friend down, gentle voice soothing her as best he could.

And, taking his small hands in hers, promised her that she'd never be alone - that if they had both not married someone by the age of thirty, they would be each other's forever.

They pinky promised, little fingers wrapping tightly together, the tears still drying on Emma's innocent face.

That had been years ago, the day still fresh in Emma's mind. It was the day that Killian's status changed from friend to _best_ friend. They had endured everything together - awkward teenager years, prom, graduation, college, even first jobs. Their age had changed nothing between them, their friendship still as strong today as it was back then.

That was until Emma realized that her thirtieth birthday was quickly approaching - and she was currently husband-less (not even a prospect in sight, her nights instead usually spent curled on the couch with a good book or over at Killian's for their weekly Netflix night).

So when Killian had slid the velvet box toward her at her birthday dinner (which honestly felt more like a date than it should have - roses, flickering candles and soft music), Emma's stomach lurched, mouth going dry at the anticipation of what was to come.

He actually appeared nervous and, for Emma, that had made it all the more difficult.

She had been trying for years to deny her growing attraction to her best friend but she wasn't fooling anyone. When Killian had almost married his college sweetheart Milah, Emma had been miserable for months, locking herself up inside her tiny apartment and avoiding the happy couple at all costs.

She didn't realize until years later why that time had affected her so much.

She had feelings for her best friend.

And all of those moments, those years spent together as nothing but friends, led up to this moment - in the comfort of her dining room where Killian Jones was currently down on one knee, shiny diamond ring in hand.

Emma couldn't help the gasp that had escaped at the sight of the ring (she hadn't expected him to go that far. _Hoped_ maybe, but _never_ expected). Her jaw went slack as he smiled up at her, cheeky grin only slightly covering his current awkwardness, before he licked his lips once and began to speak.

"About twenty two years ago, in the sandbox at our elementary school, I made a promise to you. And for a while, with my almost marrying Milah, I never thought that this moment would come – but perhaps for some reason we were destined to be together. You're the most loyal woman I know and I couldn't ask for a better partner. I care for you greatly, lass, and you're the best friend a man could ever have."

"Killian-" she interrupted before he grabbed her hand with his free one, lacing their fingers together, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over hers (and the supposed calming gesture only made her more nervous).

"Shh, love, and let me properly propose."

He exhaled shakily, shifting uncomfortably from his spot on the floor in front of her and Emma felt the tears beginning to prick her eyes at the elaborate measures he had actually went through for her.

"Will you become my best friend for life, my other half, my wife?" Unlacing their fingers, he reached up to wipe away the tear that ran it's way down her flushed skin, thumbing at the apple of her cheeks with a smile. "Emma Swan, will you marry me?"

His eyes were hopeful and expectant, more than she had ever anticipated, and her heart leapt at the thought of spending the rest of her life with him. But she knew that decision would be selfish, denying him of the things in life everyone should have, even denying herself (because as much as she was in love with him, Emma knew that the feelings weren't reciprocated. It would only bring her pain to be married to the man she loved, who only just cared for her in return. Emma Swan wanted love, not friendship).

"Killian…" she began with a sniffle, forcing a smile his way. "You deserve love, your own happy ending. You deserve _so_ much more than me. As your friend, I can't let you go through with this."

After a moment of silence, the ends of Killian's mouth tilted up into a grin as he shook his head in disbelief. "Love, nothing would make me happier than to make _you_ happy. You know I've never broken a promise and I bloody well don't intend to start now. So quit being so stubborn and just agree to marry me already!"

His tone was playful, the best friend she had grown to love. And while this should feel like a mistake, Emma only weighed the pros in her mind. Glancing from his blue eyes down to the ring and then back up to his face, she knew there was no getting out of his one.

If Killian made a promise, he was going to keep it no matter what; he was in this for the long haul.

"Okay," she breathed out with a nod, allowing him to slip the ring onto her finger before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. With her lips close to his ear, she whispered, "I'll marry you."

(If it was said to convince more herself or him, she didn't know)

* * *

><p>They were married two weeks later in a simple ceremony at the town hotel.<p>

A few close friends were in attendance, Emma's college roommate Mary-Margaret by her side as maid of honor. She wore a simple white dress, with soft golden curls spilling over her shoulders, and the pearls Killian had given her on her sixteenth birthday.

She was surprised to see tears in his eyes as she made her way down the aisle towards him. He looked gorgeous in his black tuxedo, messy hair his signature look, as he waited at the end for her. Feeling his large hands slip into hers only helped to confirm that this was actually happening.

She was marrying her best friend (and surprisingly feeling no regrets yet).

The ceremony went by in a blur, vows repeated and rings exchanged, smiles and laughs abound. It wasn't until the end was near that Emma felt tense, the weight of what had just occurred fully on her shoulders.

Their lips finally met in a kiss to seal the deal, smooth lips sliding across the other, his hands reaching up to cup her cheek and pull her closer (it wasn't the first time she had kissed him – he being her first kiss when she had turned the free-spirited thirteen), but the way his lips felt against hers wasn't exactly what she had been expecting.

They kissed for what seemed like hours; his tongue even finding it's way inside her mouth to coax hers out. It was like an explosion inside, fireworks even - until someone coughed, causing the pair to jump apart as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

And if the look on his face when she pulled away was any indication (his fingertips ghosting his lips were hers had just been), it was definitely more than Killian had been expecting too.

* * *

><p>The rest of the evening proceeded with haste, a simple reception party set up for the two at Mary-Margaret and David's house. Sappy speeches were made and laughter was rampant among the guests, and when the wine came out, all bets were off. Amidst all the chaos, somehow Killian had managed to sweep Emma off to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, their wedding song playing as he slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close.<p>

They had hardly spoken since the kiss, but there was nowhere Emma would have rather been than in his arms, her forehead resting in the crook of his neck, hand placed gently upon his rapidly beating heart.

The dance ended as quickly as it had begun, more people approaching to congratulate them before whisking them off in different directions, leaving them to only steal glances across the room from one another every so often.

When the clock rolled to midnight, Emma kissed her maid of honor on the cheek, bidding them goodnight and thanking for the kindness shown. The brunette had given her a sly wink, insinuating that she have a fun night and to attempt to get some sleep.

Her cheeks had grown red in embarrassment at her friend's suggestion and the silent ride back to his (god, _their_) apartment was more awkward than words could even begin to describe.

Killian was her friend, no matter how she felt for him, and that was apart of the guidelines for their agreement. They didn't agree for love, but rather for comfort and companionship, the best friendship two people could have.

(She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about this night, about what would come about when they were to consummate their marriage. No, Emma thought of it – often. Thought of running her hands through his dark hair, nails scrapping against skin, hips perfectly aligning.)

They got ready for bed in silence, as if routine, changing into their night attire without speaking a word. She wanted to talk, to figure things out, to know exactly what had been going through his head since the kiss (to know if he already regretted his decision).

He was speechless when she exited the bathroom, sexy lingerie leaving little to the imagination (and she inwardly made a note to thank her friend Ruby for the gift). His fists were clenched tightly at his side and Emma swayed her hips from side to side as she approached him.

"Emma," he breathed when she finally stood before him, walking them both back towards the bed. "Love, we don't have to do this is you don't want to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

(He had absolutely no idea how long she had wanted him like this – nervous and full of desire and completely _hers_)

"Now what kind of wife would I be if I couldn't please my own husband?"

His knees hit the bed and they tumbled down together in a pile of limbs, her skin sliding against his and he hissed at the contact. Pulling her closer, her legs fell apart to straddle his waist, and Killian squeezed his eyes shut tightly when her core thrust against his already growing erection (as if he shouldn't be feeling this way about his best friend – now _wife_ - trying to reign in his hormones that were only thinking about what it would feel like to finally be with her).

"It's okay, Killian," she soothed, fingers running through his messy locks (finally, _finally_ – her mind screamed), scarcely covered breasts pushing up against his bare chest. "I don't mind."

He relaxed a little at her admission (and Emma internally breathed a sigh of relief, her body humming with pure pleasure at the thought of being able to finally sleep with the man she had dreamt about for years).

"In fact," she began, nails now scrapping against his chest, her mouth planting open mouth kisses all the way up to his neck. She stopped just below his ear, taking the lobe into her mouth and nibbling lightly before speaking softly. "I kind of want this."

Her hips swiveled against his, rutting lightly and a moan slipped through her mouth at the feeling of him against her. He gave a few experimental thrusts against her, the cloth of his boxers and her panties rubbing against them, yet still separating too much. Somehow she managed to give a dark chuckle, quickly turning into another groan that left her panting against his skin. "And apparently you do too."

At her words, something inside Killian snapped, holding her steady against his form to flip them over, pushing her deep into the mattress, hair spilling around her like a golden halo. With a low growl, his lips finally found hers, clothing quickly removed in a clash of limbs and teeth and tongue.

The drag of his mouth against her skin had her wet and wanting within minutes, his expert tongue brushing against her hardened nipple, swirling around her belly button and then finding her slick below, moist and ready for him. A muttered "I've always wondered how you would taste, love," pressed against the skin of her thigh where he was nipping at the flesh.

She had always ached to know how he was in bed and, needless to say, he didn't disappoint. In mere minutes, an embarrassingly short amount of time, he had coaxed her up to the edge with only his mouth and ultimately over that golden tipped peak that had her gasping and writhing beneath him, fingernails digging into the skin of his back and her feet planted firmly on the mattress.

Once again, his mouth found hers and she tasted the tanginess of herself on his tongue. Her heart was beating swiftly inside (not just from the earth shattering orgasm he had just given her but also from the fact that she was about to have sex with her best friend, something she had dreamed of since the very first moment he had aroused her, stirrings inside that made her want him as more than just a friend).

And when his cock nudged at her entrance, Emma whimpered in eagerness, his mouth latched to a perky nipple, licking and nipping and sucking the bud between his teeth. Suddenly, he released her breast with a wet plop, finding her lips once again for a soft kiss.

"Emma," he whispered, their sweaty foreheads pressed tightly together as their bodies almost melted into one. His voice was uncertain, questioning, making sure that this was all her decision, that it was something that she truly wanted.

Wrapping her legs around his waist and hooking her ankles at his lower back, he slipped inside her a bit, causing them both to gasp. Emma nodded eagerly, her fingers still in his hair as she replied curtly. "Just do it, Jones."

And then - finally – they came together as one. He filled her, completed her, and made her feel something that she'd never felt before. The burning ache that had first hit when he had abruptly pushed inside of her quickly blossomed into pleasure, building the ache once again low in her belly.

The push and pull was better than she could have ever imagined, the rough drag of his cock against her inner walls pulling the string inside taut, like a bow ready to explode. He grunted with each thrust, holding her closely and whispering loving words against her skin. It wasn't long before she was crying out, urging him to move faster, for more, _god, more_.

And when his finger sough out her aching clit, she found that peak again, gasping and panting in ecstasy as her walls clenching around him helped him to go over the edge as well. They lay there, breathless and boneless, completely sated in each other's arms.

Turning on her side, Emma gave him one last kiss, a soft goodnight against his flushed skin. He hummed in reply, tucking the hair that was matted to her sweaty forehead behind her ear. She settled back against Killian, him spooning her from behind, and sleep quickly tried to overtake them both.

When he seemed sure that she was asleep, Killian couldn't help but place one last kiss to her skin, his mouth meeting her shoulder. And even in the phase of almost slumber, Emma was certain that the words of "I love you" had been placed against her skin, a mark, a _promise_.

Then, smiling, she fell asleep in the arms of the man that finally loved her in return.

* * *

><p>He woke up in bed alone, the smell of bacon wafting throughout the apartment, and Killian slipped on his boxers before following the scent to the kitchen where Emma had busied herself making breakfast.<p>

She turned around at the sound of him approaching, the biggest smile she had ever given him consuming her face. "Look who finally decided to get up."

Killian gave a chuckle, settling himself onto the barstool, hands folded up under his chin. "Well _someone_ kept me up half the night."

Emma grinned, setting the plate of eggs and bacon down on the counter in front of him, addressing her husband with a wink. "You sure weren't complaining then."

The twinkle in her eye was undeniable and her face softened a bit in his presence. But the knot in her stomach was still twisting and Emma knew what had to be done.

Noticing her sudden uneasiness, Killian set down his fork, wiping his mouth with the napkin and clearing his throat. "Emma-"

"I think we need to talk," she quickly interrupted, plopping down on the barstool next to him. Her hands threaded together and she twisted the shiny ring on her finger in worry. "About everything that has happened. I heard what you said last night. Did you mean it?"

Swiveling his stool towards hers, he unlatched her fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to place a soft kiss to the tips.

"Love, I meant every word I said, every action was true. I've been denying myself so long because I always wanted to put your own feelings before my own, because I didn't want to risk our friendship."

A jolt of pleasure and surprised rushed through her blood, heart rate increasing at his words. He cared – no, he _loved_ her. All this time, both had been denying what they were truly feeling, rejecting themselves from the pleasure and peace they could have experienced earlier if they had just let themselves.

Biting on her bottom lip, she exhaled a sigh of relief. "When did you know?"

"When we were eight."

"The day we made our promise?"

"Aye. I knew then that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."

That long. He had loved her _that_ long and she had absolutely no idea. This whole time she had thought that she was the only one with feelings, that it was completely one-sided and hopeless. But here he was, smiling in their kitchen the morning after consummating their love, holding her hands and kissing her as if she were the most precious thing on earth. And, despite the fact that they had waited so long to do so, it was all worth it.

Spreading his legs, he pulled Emma off the stool to stand between them, both of his hands going to cup her face, bringing her lips down to meet his. The kiss was short but they both pulled away breathless, foreheads pressed firmly together. "I love you, Emma Swan."

"Jones," she corrected, her thumb running across his bottom lip. "It's Emma Jones now. And I love you too. For my whole life."

"For our whole lives," he promised, pulling her into his arms, lips sweetly finding each other once again.

Killian Jones had made two promises to Emma during their time together. The first was an innocent promise of marriage, of always being there for each other, one that had now been fulfilled. The second promise was one of forever – of a lifetime spent together with her by his side.

And it was one that he was intending to keep. After all, Killian Jones never broke a promise.


	2. The February Fourteenth Secret

**Prompt: Their first Valentines Day as newlyweds is quickly approaching and Killian just wants the night to be perfect - all Emma wants is the perfect opportunity to finally tell her husband the secret she has been holding in for days.**

* * *

><p>They had been married for almost four months.<p>

Four blissful months of going from best friends to husband and wife (and every wonderful little detail that it entailed). Emma wouldn't mention it to anyone – except maybe Mary Margaret - but the sex was beyond everything she had ever imagined during all the years she had pined after him. He was a gentle lover, considerate of her needs and wants, bending to her every fantasy and never hesitating to give her more.

And quite frankly, they had been going at it like bunnies every moment they could during those first few months of being married – and in every position and place imaginable too. Wall, floor, couch, stairs, bed – it didn't matter where to them. All that mattered to Killian and Emma was that their love was displayed physically (after all, the pair had never been one for words).

So somewhere in there, amongst the numerous sexual acts, someone was bound to make a mistake or two.

Emma wasn't sure how it had happened (or who's fault it was) but all that mattered now is that it did - and there was no going back.

All she had to do now was to figure out a way to tell her husband.

* * *

><p>Her feet hurt.<p>

(A long day on the job would do that to a woman).

All she wanted was to strip herself of every stitch of clothing and submerge herself in a nice bubble bath. The water would feel warm against her worn skin, her aching muscles relaxing beyond her control and – hopefully – she could feel her husband slip in behind her, his skin grazing against her own as he would scrub her body clean.

The pure thought of it all had Emma's core clenched with desire (the pure want and need that she still felt for her husband coursing wildly through her veins, even after all this time – not to mention how out of control her hormones were recently).

She finally came to a stop at the door to their apartment, muttering curses to herself when she couldn't dig the keys out of her purse. A groan of frustration passed her lips upon realization that she had left her keys at the office and Emma couldn't help but bang her head onto the wood of the door.

It opened on her in an instant, causing her to stumble, hands blindly reaching out for the doorframe to steady herself until a pair of arms wrapped around her, his chuckle light and blissful.

"Easy there, love," Killian cautioned, helping his wife inside and shutting the door behind her, his arms never leaving their place from around her. He beamed down at her, placing a kiss against her forehead (the indentation of the wood door still clearly marked on her skin and he really tried not to laugh at how adorable she looked). "Can't have my girl getting hurt on Valentine's Day."

She stopped, her heart faltering at his words (and she mentally replayed the days in the back corners of her mind, trying to remember what day it actually was).

"Killian…is that today?" Her voice wavered with uncertainty – his eyes hopefully and full of life – and she absolutely hated herself for not remembering.

He laughed (oblivious to the fact that Emma was mentally beating herself up for forgetting the day where she should have been showering him with affection), his smile lighting up the room instead. "Well according to my calendar it is the fourteenth day of February, plus the flower shop was full of other men rushing to get last minute gifts."

Eyebrows creased together, she frowned, her fingers running through her own hair in frustration. "Oh. I'm sorry it must have somehow slipped my mind. I've had a lot going on, you know?"

"Aye. Which is why I already have the perfect evening planned for us."

"Popcorn and Forrest Gump?" she questioned jokingly, plopping herself down on the couch and reaching for the remote.

"Oh no, no, no," Killian reassured, pulling her up from the couch (confusion settling across her face when his hand was placed at the small of her back) and walking her towards the dining area instead. "We are married now. I am not going to allow our first Valentine's Day as husband and wife to be watching some movie."

"But it's a tradition," she countered, a genuine pout on her lips.

For as long as she could remember, Killian and Emma had a long standing tradition on Valentine's Day to get together and watch Forrest Gump, buckets of buttery popcorn in their laps just waiting to be devoured. It was one of her favorite traditions because it allowed her to spend the day devoted to love with her very best friend (and secret crush, which neither exactly knew at the time).

Some of their best memories were formed on those fourteenth days of February (except for the few years that Killian dated Milah which Emma had dubbed the "lost years" – instead choosing to ignore those completely because of the unbearable heartbreak they had produced on those lonely nights).

"That's the thing about traditions, love," he spoke softly into her ear, pulling her from the daydreaming of memories long gone. "Sometimes you have to start new ones."

Her heart skipped at the sight before them – beautiful candlelit table set for two, a dozen red roses displayed as the centerpiece and it completely took Emma's breath away, much reminiscent of the night that he had originally proposed to her (whereas he was nervous and awkward then, now full of hope and delight).

He pulled the chair out for her, which she graciously seated herself in, the smile he had long been waiting for finally crossing her lips as she noticed the beautiful string of pearls placed in front of her – the ones that he had given her on her sixteenth birthday, the ones that she had worn on their wedding just months ago.

"May I, darling?" he questioned, picking up the necklace, silently awaiting her approval. She nodded and Killian gently swept her blonde locks to the side, hooking the necklace at the base of her neck with ease, placing a soft kiss (or two or three) to the side of her neck when he had finished.

A hum of content became lodged at the back of her throat, a pleasurable ache settling beneath her breastbone and Emma couldn't imagine life getting any better than this. She leaned back into his embrace, giving his arm a tug so that he was facing her. Her grin finally reached her eyes, mirroring his, and she placed her hands on either side of his face to pull her husband into a kiss.

"I love you, Killian Jones." Her lips brushed across his with every word, a sensual movement that already had her body hot and ready.

"And I you, Swan."

(No matter how long they had been married, Killian never seemed to drop the "Swan" nickname for her, even if she now was officially a Jones.)

With a comfortable sigh, she relaxed back in her chair. He wouldn't stop looking at her (as if she were the most precious and beautiful creature on earth, as if she had placed the sun and stars in the sky herself), and it made Emma even more nervous to divulge her secret.

(Right. _The news_. Somewhere between the couch and his lips sliding against hers, Emma had forgotten the talk she had been anticipating for days – somehow his kiss always seemed to do that, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded in the best way possible. She had just been waiting for the right moment, but she knew that news like this couldn't wait anymore. He had to know – he _deserved_ to know now.)

"It's all absolutely beautiful, Killian," she began, watching him as he stood up and began walking towards the kitchen, "but before we get started there's actually something I needed to talk to you about."

"One moment. Allow me to get the wine," was his muffled reply from inside the kitchen.

"No wine."

She winced at her own words – they were _so_ obvious – just as Killian's head popped from around the corner in the kitchen.

"Come again?"

Emma squeezed her laced hands together, closing her eyes with a deep breath and willing herself to just tell him already. "I…um, would rather stay completely sober tonight."

(A lie, of course)

His eyebrows raised in question, setting the bottle back and sauntering towards her, the fabric of his dark gray Henley just itching to be touched and grabbed and torn (and god her hormones were already completely out of control).

"If you wish," he shrugged his shoulders as he approached her, reaching down to unlatch her hands and instead lace them with his, fingers perfectly interlocking. "I just want tonight to be perfect."

Emma laughed, smirk crossing her mouth in amusement. He seemed a bit taken aback by her response at first but his conscience was eased when she stood up and pressed herself against him, shoulder to hip, and she could already feel him stirring against her with pure unbridled lust.

"No need to seduce me, Killian," Emma purred, her fingers working their way between his dark, messy locks and a low growl emanated from his throat at the sensations her nails against his scalp were causing. "Sex is pretty much guaranteed tonight, even if I am bone tired."

"Speaking of…" His voice became low and husky and completely full of promise. The irises of his eyes grew dark with need and Emma's stomach instantly clenched with the intensity of his gaze. "Dinner won't be ready for another thirty minutes. It gives us plenty of time to enjoy some other _pleasurable_ activities."

"Is that so?" she questioned seductively, wrapping her arms around Killian's neck, hands tickling the base of his hairline, before pulling his mouth down to hers, their lips instantly locking.

The heat was unbearable (which was saying a lot considering the short, sleeveless dress she was wearing) and it didn't take long for Killian to hitch one of her legs around his when their tongues finally met.

It was sloppy, rushed (and there was more passionate need than the gentle loving that Killian had planned for but _god_, she just needed him – inside her, around her, against her, everywhere at once – completely and utterly _hers_).

"Killian," she finally panted breathlessly against him when he began to kiss the slope of her neck instead. "There's something I really need to tell you."

But he didn't stop (and as much as she needed to speak with him before things got heated, she didn't want him to), instead working one of the straps of her dress down so that he exposed her chest, his hand finding her hardening pink nipples and rolling them between his fingers.

He ignored her weak protest (which only seemed to turn them both on even further), his mouth finding hers once more as he walked them back in the kitchen, pressing her against a counter before lifting her onto it, sandwiching her writhing body between the marble countertops and his scorching form.

"God, I love you so much," he growled against her mouth, causing a surge of lust to run through her form. Emma's legs wrapped around him and a moan was exhaled by both when the denim along his growing erection pressed perfectly against her soaked underwear, the fabric of her dress now hitched up around her waist.

"Your lips," Killian started, giving several sort pecks to the part he was naming, "so soft. Your neck, your perfect breasts, your stomach," each kiss was placed along the skin he described, the swell of her breasts aching for his touch when he moved down her body, over her clothed stomach to pull down her panties, exposing her drenched core, "and my most favorite part."

She would have laughed when he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows up at her but that was only moments before his mouth descended on her aching flesh, licking through her folds as if he were a man dying of thirst. It wasn't long before his fingers entered the mix as well, two roughly pushed up inside her and curving again and again until she was panting, breathless, obscenely moaning (and what a sight they were – Emma sitting on the counter with her dress now only covering her torso and Killian's head between her spread legs).

Her orgasm hit her without warning when Killian's tongue flicked out against her clit and she felt her release wash over her with a silent scream on her tongue. She saw stars beneath her eyelids, hands grasping at the counter to anchor her and muscles contracting around his fingers that were slowing bringing her down.

Obviously pleased with himself, Killian grinned up at his wife, her arousal glistening around his mouth. "Do you know how completely wrecked you look right now, Emma? Your dress up around your waist and chest exposed for my pleasure, coming in the kitchen just for me."

Normally Emma would have been sated for a while, but the dangerous combination of her raging hormones and Killian's dirty talk had her desire spiked for more – she needed him. Now.

Reaching down, she grabbed a hold of his belt buckle, quickly undoing his pants and shoving them down – boxers and all. And before Killian could even get a word out of his mouth, Emma had wrapped her hand around his hard cock, her fingers tracing the length of him and he unintentionally thrust against her, craving more, seeking his own release.

It wasn't long before she had lined him up at her entrance and he suddenly thrust inside of her slick, wet heat. Killian moaned at the tightness of her around his cock and Emma begged him to move, for _more_.

They quickly found their usual rhythm, the kitchen counter posing a challenge that they hadn't experienced in a while (usually they could make it to the bedroom before completely taking each other, but with Emma's condition, she knew that she now wanted him on every surface in their apartment).

He filled her perfectly, and when he buried himself inside of her completely, over and over and over again, she felt the pleasure building to a climax in the pit of her stomach. In just a few thrusts, Emma found that edge once again, flying blindly and almost completely blacking out from overwhelming sensations.

She trigged his own release, spilling himself inside of her entirely with a muttered curse on his lips. They stood there, pressed against each other; the only sound in the room was that of their labored breathing. With their sweaty foreheads pressed firmly together, Killian pressed his lips to Emma's.

The kiss was short, but what came out of her mouth next, in the moment of complete satisfaction in love, couldn't be avoided anymore.

"I'm pregnant."

Emma expected Killian to stiffen at her words, but instead a chuckle passed his lips as he shook his head with a smug grin upon his face. "Well I know I was good, love, but I don't think it's humanly possible to know that quickly."

She bit down on her tongue to keep from laughing (only her husband would think that), placing a hand on either side of his face and forcing his blue eyes to connect with her green ones. "Killian, that thing I've been needing to tell you all night?" He nodded his head in continuation before she added once more. "I'm pregnant."

This time he did stiffen, the weight of her words fully bearing down on him. His eyebrows creased in thought and – as much as she wanted to kiss it away – Emma gave him the moment he needed to process prior to continuing.

She took a breath, the words poised on the edge of her tongue (and how couldn't they be when she had been rehearsing the words in her mind for the past three days since she had peed on that stick in their bathroom while he was at work). "I know it's not something we've really discussed yet and we've only been married for a few months but –"

Her explanation was cut shot as his lips crashed onto hers. It was electric, full of more love and passion than she had ever experienced in her lifetime. And when he pulled back – after pressing kisses all around her face, to any exposed skin that his mouth could find – he beamed at his wife.

"You're okay with this?" she questioned, her hand cupping his cheek gently.

Killian grinned, pulling Emma down off the counter and into his arms, righting her dress in the process. "I'm more than happy, Emma. My whole life, as long as I've loved you, I have always wondered what it would be like someday to have you as my wife. And then I would imagine producing a child from our love. It has been my greatest dream and now you are making it come true. You have given me everything and I couldn't be happier, my love." Smiling, Killian leaned down to press a kiss to her clothed stomach before adding, "My two loves."

Emma couldn't help the tears that had formed in her eyes at his kind words and gentle actions (stupid hormones, already driving her crazy with mood swings). He wiped the stray tear away and she snuggled against his chest when he pulled her even closer. "I know this isn't exactly how you anticipated this night going."

"You're right," he confirmed, "It turned out even better than I imagined."

Four months ago, when they had gotten married and their love had been confirmed, Emma never thought that she would be happier than she was in that moment after their first night together, after he had spoken the words of "I love you" for the first time.

But this feeling, this love, was beyond anything that she had ever experienced, and there was no one she would rather share this moment with than Killian, the love of her life – her husband and best friend.

Arms wrapped tightly around each other, Emma whispered to her husband with an uncontrollable smile on her face, the thought of their baby currently growing inside of her at the forefront of her mind. "Happy Valentine's Day, daddy."


End file.
